


Contracted

by Daegaer



Series: Contracted [1]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Feline Aliens, Gen, Psychic Abilities, Worksafe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-31 02:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12666636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Nagi takes on a job to ship a cargo to the distant Takatori System. Unfortunately his business associate is coming along too.





	Contracted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2017 Weiss Kreuz vs Saiyuki "Last Dance" Battle for the prompt _Nagi/Omi, sci-fi AU. Space pirate and smuggler Nagi finds himself strangely compelled to help Omi, a lowly bodyguard who is secretly the illegitimate heir to the Takatori planetary system, make his way home and reclaim his birthright._

Nagi sat back in the spaceport bar, his feet up on the table. His contact was late. As usual, the unreliable bastard. Why he even bothered dealing with aliens he didn't know. He grimaced into his overpriced, watered-down beer. The bastard had probably mentally influenced him into waiting. He hadn't been keeping up with his inoculations and was more vulnerable than usual. _Sloppy, Naoe, sloppy_ , he thought.

He waved the serving woman over. She looked down at him in bored annoyance.

"Yeah? Another beer you can nurse for an hour?"

"If it was actually beer, sure. Fruit juice – that red stuff. And a plate of grilled meat that isn't rat or cat. With vegetables, if they come without being deep fried."

"What are you, a restaurant critic? Anything else?"

"I'll ask for the dessert menu later."

She rolled her eyes and left. The food, when it finally came, was relatively tasty. The local spices tingled on Nagi's tongue, and the fruit juice hit his system with a rush far more uplifting than the weak beer. It always paid to do a bit of research on the likely side-effects of local foods, he thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed.

He was almost finished his dessert, a mild custard with tart fruit seeds hidden in its depths, when a voice called out across the bar.

"Citizen Naoe! How lovely to see that I am not overly tardy!"

"Fuck you," Nagi said in reply as his contact slid into the chair opposite. "I've been here for hours. I suppose you've been in some whorehouse?"

"Me? In some whorehouse?" the felinoid sitting opposite said, flicking his orange ears. "My dear Citizen Naoe, in the _best_ whorehouse. They had the most _delicious_ new human girl – skin like unmarked gold, a mind like a deep, reflecting pool –"

"I don't care."

"- slender legs of a _most_ sleek appearance – one could quite forgive the knees bending in the wrong direction – "

"Schuldig. I. Don't. Care."

Schuldig shrugged, his ears twitching in a way that Nagi knew quite well indicated malicious amusement as his tail curled neatly around into his lap. "As you wish, Citizen Naoe. I really just wanted to demonstrate my lack of bigotry when it comes to beauty of any species – even yours. Let us discuss business then, as you have no time for diverting small talk."

"Good," Nagi said. "Let's start with, _Who the fuck is that?_ " He nodded to the young, pleasant-looking human man standing a few paces behind Schuldig's chair. He was shabbily dressed, but his hand rested on a blaster pistol that looked worth more than the rest of his belongings put together.

"My bodyguard," Schuldig said airily. "It may seem odd, but some people wish me ill."

"How extremely odd," Nagi said sarcastically. "Have you _any_ business for me or not?"

"I do have a very good tip – a consignment of energy crystals to be delivered to a planetary system a few weeks travel away. Low bulk, high profit – very high profit; they're really good crystals."

"Uh-huh," Nagi said. "What's the catch? I know there's a catch."

Schuldig ran a hand over one of his ears. "The crystals aren't exactly in my possession, Citizen Naoe. We'd have to _acquire_ them."

"Right," Nagi said, narrowing his eyes. Low bulk, high profit, but not exactly low risk. Wait. "What do you mean, _We_?"

"The buyer doesn't know you – this isn't to cast aspersions on your skills, Citizen Naoe, of course, oh _no_ \- but they would need to deal with me directly. I'd have to accompany you. And my bodyguard as well, of course."

Nagi opened his mouth to say _Fuck, no_. It was bad enough dealing with Schuldig planetside; the idea of being cooped up with him for weeks on a ship was torture. Then the thought of how much he needed a job hit him, hard, and he thought of all the repairs he could carry out on the ship, and the upgrades, and the sheer pleasure of having actual _money_ and being able to eat in a better sort of place than this shithole. He looked at Schuldig's sharp-toothed grin, and the suddenly hopeful smile on the bodyguard's face and knew he was going to agree.

Fuck. He should have kept up with his anti-telepathy shots.


End file.
